


The Holiday Table

by merry_amelie



Series: Academic Arcadia [117]
Category: Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace
Genre: Alternate Reality, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-12-18
Updated: 2007-12-18
Packaged: 2018-04-04 14:06:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4140567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merry_amelie/pseuds/merry_amelie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A family Thanksgiving.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Holiday Table

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback: Is treasured at merryamelie@aol.com (or leave a comment).
> 
> Disclaimer: Mr. Lucas owns everything Star Wars. I'm not making any money.
> 
> For  
> My beta team: Nerowill, Emila-Wan, Carol, and Padawan Sue  
> Mali Wane for posting  
> My former betas: Alex and Ula

"Happy Thanksgiving!" John hugged his son the moment Quinn opened the door.  
  
Warmth flowed through Quinn at his father's greeting. Last year, John hadn't even been talking to him, and now he was wrapped in his dad's bear hug.  
  
What a difference a year made! This Thanksgiving was already a happy one, thanks to his parents being with him. A holiday grin bloomed on Quinn's face as he basked in their hugs. He'd never take their presence for granted again.  
  
Quinn beamed in delight as they greeted the Prentices enthusiastically, especially Lelia. When everyone was settled on the couch and easy chairs, he went to the kitchen to help Ian with the drinks.  
  
"My folks just got here." Delighted disbelief infused Quinn's lilt.  
  
"Just what I've been hoping for," Ian said, kissing his husband's Quinn-size smile.  
  
Though the Mastersons had been to family parties throughout the year, Thanksgiving was a benchmark. One year ago, at the start of the estrangement, it had seemed distressingly unlikely that Quinn's parents would ever come to Alder Run again.  
  
Ian and the Prentices had tried to fill the void and had succeeded, up to a point. But Quinn would never forget the sense of abandonment he'd felt, just because he'd broken out of their mold. He knew that their prejudice had to be confronted, by parents and son, before the healing could begin, but he never wanted to feel that uncertainty again.  
  
Ian's beatific smile, one of deep understanding, echoed Quinn's own bone-deep relief. He hugged Quinn with the strength of happiness he felt at the fulfillment of his wish that the Mastersons would join them at the table.  
  
Quinn found it impossible to resist stealing a kiss with his laddie in his arms so warm and tempting. Ian's lips were a world of their own. After a last lingering kiss to Ian's forehead, he forced himself to get the mugs for their mulled cider.  
  
While Ian filled the mugs, Quinn poured apple juice into a sippy cup for Lelia. He smiled at her finger-painted turkey on the refrigerator as he put the jug away. They brought two trays to the living room, where everyone was watching figure skating. Jo had left them two spots next to her on the couch, cozily reminiscent of her first talk with Quinn, and they relaxed into the cushions blissfully.  
  
Wonderful to see Johnny Weir winning Cup of China. His new coach had proven just the taskmaster the free-spirited Johnny had needed, and they looked forward to enjoying a long rivalry with Evan Lysacek, as well as Joubert and Lambiel. If Johnny could just achieve a consistent quad, he'd be almost unbeatable.  
  
Quinn got up to check on dinner, the buzz of the timer greeting him as he walked into the kitchen. Ian joined him, and together they carried enough platters for an army of Brandybucks to their waiting family.  
  
Jo had prepared her special mushroom stuffing, sure to please the hobbit in her boys, while Keith had made cornbread. Kathy had baked apple and pecan pies, and Monty had dipped fruit into dark chocolate. Ginny and John had brought their famous biscuits. No one, even Quinn, would be able to finish it all in one sitting.  
  
They sat down to eat in the living room, their kitchen and card tables barely fitting everyone. Ian sat at the head of the groaning board, with Quinn across from him. His parents and Ginny & John were to his right, while Kathy, Monty, and Lelia were on his left.  
  
Grace this year was truly amazing, the entire family filled with gratitude that they were all together on this most important of days. Then the free-for-all began, with platters passed willy-nilly, and the food just seeming to vanish.  
  
Luckily, Ian and Quinn had bought a 25-pound turkey, so there was plenty for the whole family, with enough leftovers for everyone to take home. There was no talking for a good while, everyone too absorbed in the feast for chit-chat.  
  
Lelia nibbled her cornbread, knowing she'd have to eat most of her meal before Mommy would let her have a piece of pie. She looked over at Uncle Wan, who gave her a wink as he munched on a biscuit. He cut her vegetables, just like Daddy did at home, trying to make them easier to eat.  
  
Kathy glanced over at Ian and grinned. She just loved the way he clicked with her daughter. Lelia was a lucky little girl, with so many doting uncles and grandparents, as well as honorary ones like Ginny and John, surrounding her in love.  
  
"I'm as stuffed as the turkey," Kathy said, pushing her dish away. "Y'know, we've got another feast to go to tomorrow." Her parents were having their Thanksgiving party on Friday, so she could be there with Lelia and Monty.  
  
"By the look of things, we'll have a second feast as well," Quinn said, a twinkle in his eye as he surveyed the abundance before him. "Even when you lot get your leftovers."  
  
"I want apple pie!" Lelia dropped her chopped green bean.  
  
Kathy chuckled at her daughter's enthusiasm and mostly clean plate. "You'll get some as soon as we help clear the table." She handed Lelia the empty bread basket and picked up a platter.  
  
"We'll handle this." Quinn pushed back his chair, but Jo looked at him repressively before he got up.  
  
Jo chided, "You and Ian have been at it the whole day. Let us do the rest."  
  
"Thank you." Quinn's gaze included the whole family. He went to sit by Ian while the others traipsed in and out of the kitchen. "So how was it, laddie?" He patted Ian's stomach.  
  
Ian covered as much of his husband's hand with his own as he could. "Just delicious, especially Mom's stuffing."  
  
"That's always my favorite, too."  
  
With seven people helping, clean-up was quick, and the desserts were out in minutes. Jo stopped Quinn from getting up again, when he tried to give back her chair. "Stay put," she chuckled and went to sit in Quinn's seat.  
  
When Monty sliced the apple pie, he made sure to give Lelia the first piece. Her "Thank you, Daddy" evoked fond smiles at her good manners.  
  
Quinn couldn't decide between the two pies, so he had both. He mixed his glazed pecans with spiced apple and happily munched away. Ian looked at the intriguing combination and put his fork in. Quinn remembered his comment at the Mace University cafeteria, on the very first day they'd met. "The food on your plate tastes better."  
  
Apparently, it still did, because Ian started to poach in earnest, until Quinn switched plates with him and worked the same magic on Ian's dessert.  
  
The few steps from the table to the easy chairs seemed like a light-year, but they made it. Ginny found the remote and started channel-surfing. Ah, The Ghost and Mrs. Muir. She recognized the "Madeira, My Dear?" episode, and the family settled in to watch.  
  
The love story across two centuries, and four decades of reruns, had lost none of its charm. Carolyn and Captain Gregg created sparks whenever they were together, whether in an argument or a genteel conversation. Deftly balancing romance and humor, the show captivated Ian particularly. Their love felt like a cool breeze in the desert to him.  
  
When it was over, the guests were ready to go home, if they could just detach themselves from their seats. Quinn and Ian were allowed back in the kitchen to divvy up the leftovers, since their diplomacy was crucial in the matter of the stuffing. Everyone ended up leaving with their favorites. And tomorrow, they'd even make another run to the food bank; they tended to double their usual weekly donations at this time of year.  
  
Luckily for them, Monty had run the dishwasher before the easy chair claimed him, so they could go straight to bed after tending to Sandy and Artoo. Tired as they were, they didn't bother with their flannel pajamas, letting beloved skin warm them under their comforter.  
  
Of course, the feel of that skin was a powerful stimulus, and sleepy burrowing became erotic playfulness fast. Ian nibbled Quinn's shoulder, while his shaft bumped happily into Quinn's hip. He raised his head for a deep kiss, closing his eyes as he felt Quinn's love pour into him.  
  
"I want some more stuffing," Quinn whispered into Ian's neck.  
  
"Plenty left," Ian breathed, stroking Quinn's upper arm.  
  
Quinn reached for their berry gel, thankful it wasn't cranberry-flavored, but jumped out of bed before snagging it. "Ow!" He stomped around the room, trying to loosen a leg cramp.  
  
Even though the sight of Quinn stamping across the bedroom like a herd of banthas was hilarious, Ian focused on helping him with his gymnastic training. "Push your toes against the floor harder. It'll ease up."  
  
Finally, after five interminable minutes, it did. Quinn got back under the covers gingerly, wary of setting it off again. Ian massaged his calf with expert fingers, enjoying Quinn's sighs. He wrapped Quinn in a soothing hug, and nuzzled into his cheek. A few kisses later, Quinn was ready to try once more.  
  
This time, Ian got the gel and coated his husband tenderly. He had to hold off a moment before slicking himself, batting Quinn's hand away. "Y'want me to last, doncha?" he growled.  
  
Quinn threw the comforter aside and lay back against the sheet. He pulled Ian on top of him and pressed his thigh into the inviting erection, too turned on to wait for Ian to push inside him. "C'mon!"  
  
"Easy, easy," Ian whispered, used to gentling a super-charged Quinn. "Just let me up a bit, and I'll make it even better."  
  
Quinn went boneless under him at that, rapt by the tender heat in the beloved voice. He was quickly rewarded by Ian kneeling above him and nudging inside. Impossible pressure, then he slid all the way in. Both of them gasped at the shock of pleasure.  
  
"Please." Quinn arched his hips, desperate to get Ian to move.  
  
"Yes, Master," Ian huffed and concentrated on staving off his orgasm. He resisted falling into a rhythm and instead began a series of jabs and longer thrusts, hoping to keep them on the edge.  
  
But the force of Quinn's desire was as irresistible as the man himself, not to mention those powerful hips begging to be pounded into the mattress. All too soon, Ian yielded to their demands and started pumping wildly into him, sweat dripping off his face and neck onto Quinn's chest. Grunting with every thrust, he barely heard Quinn's groans.  
  
Quinn clamped around his length with a shout when he exploded into orgasm, then felt Ian pulsing deeply inside him, as he ground out "Qui" in a voice almost as deep. Both reverberated within Quinn, and his hand shot out reflexively to stop Ian from pulling out.  
  
Ian smiled lazily and stayed right where he was, as greedy as his husband for a few moments more of supreme closeness. Finally, the inevitable softening eased Ian out as both of them sighed at the loss.  
  
Quinn wiped most of the semen away with the sheet and pulled Ian into his arms. He fell asleep while whispering a prayer of thanksgiving for his priceless lad.


End file.
